


She-Ra One Shots

by toomanyteabags



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, One-Sided Catra/Scorpia (She-Ra), Quote: Hey Adora (She-Ra), Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, The Fright Zone (She-Ra)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanyteabags/pseuds/toomanyteabags
Summary: Some angst, some fluff, everything is fair game here! One shots I did because the ideas wouldn't leave me head. If you like something, let me know! I'll write more of it. I'll also update tags as I go, so you can see if there's any ship/character in here for you :)
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Scorpia (She-Ra), Catra & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	1. Why Do You Love Me? (Catradora)

“Will you just SHUT UP!” Catra screamed, throwing a vase at the wall and listening to it shatter.

“Catra, please, listen to me-” Adora begged, ducking to avoid the falling shards of glass.

“No, just leave me alone!” Catra screwed up her eyes, breathing hard, and held on tight to the edge of her dresser. The cold wood steadied her, gave her something to hold onto.

She had thought it was over. She thought that once her chip was gone and the war won, everything would be okay. She had been an idiot. 

“When have I ever left you alone?” Adora tried to move a little closer, and Catra drew back.

“Maybe when you left the Horde,” She hissed, pupils dilated with fear.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Catra wasn’t supposed to be having nightmares anymore. She wasn’t supposed to be afraid to look into a mirror, dreading to see a sickly green glow in her eyes. Catra was supposed to have a happy ending. 

“Catra,” Adora softened. “That was a long time ago. I’m here now. I know you had another nightmare. It’s okay. Come here, let’s go back to sleep.”

Catra’s tail thrashed, claws digging into the wood of the dresser. “No! No, I can’t go back to sleep, I-” 

Visions filled her head. The harsh touch of Horde Prime, a bubbling green pool, dark locks of hair falling to the ground. 

Entrapta had reassured Catra that Horde Prime could no longer see her, that she was safe and the chip destroyed forever.

But the dreams came, and Catra couldn’t help but be afraid. She was drowning, suffocating, in the toxic green water. She was fighting Adora, claws digging into her back, trying desperately to stop herself. She was kneeling by the throne of Horde Prime, looking into his eyes and seeing her own stare back.

If she didn’t sleep, the dreams wouldn’t come. Then Catra would be safe.

“Catra…” Adora said softly, jerking Catra out of her thoughts.

Catra hissed, she had allowed herself to become distracted. Allowed herself to become vulnerable. 

“Too weak…” Shadow Weaver’s silky voice came floating back to Catra, years of feeling worthless. “You should have been stronger.”

“Get away from me,” Catra tried to growl, but it came out as a broken sob. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a villain, a Force Captain, or even just a chipped servant. She had no power anymore. She was nothing. 

Adora extended her fingers, gently, to touch Catra’s hand. Catra felt a hot pain behind her eyes, feeling tears starting to form. Adora stayed silent, but entwined her hand with Catra’s. Catra’s throat was too tight, too hot, she felt like she was going to snap in two. Using her other hand, Adora reached up and gently pushed hair off Catra’s clammy forehead. Catra closed her eyes, feeling the familiar warm touch. 

They stayed there, gazing out the moonlit window, for what felt like an impossibly long time until Catra’s breathing eased.

Eventually, Catra broke the silence. “Hey, Adora… Can I ask you something?”

Adora turned to face her, long blonde hair almost glowing in the faint light like the halo of an angel. Sometimes, Catra could see She-Ra in Adora’s face even when she wasn’t transformed, the way her blue eyes seemed to stare through a person or how her laugh could be heard from across the room. 

“Of course,” Adora said quietly, looking down at their interlocked fingers.

“Why…” Catra began, before faltering. She was afraid of the answer. She was always afraid, all the time, and that secret she would take with her to her grave. She continued, voice dropping to a whisper. “Why do you love me?”

Catra risked a glance up, her eyes meeting Adora’s wide ones. Adora looked surprised for a moment, before smiling and stepping closer to Catra. 

“Why do I love you?” She repeated, and reached up to touch Catra’s cheek. Catra couldn’t help but melt into her touch, tail curling with a mixture of sadness and joy. “What isn’t there to love? You’re… you’re amazing. The way you can take control of a room with a single command, how your eyes squint when you’re really happy. You purr when you sleep, y’know, and I’ve loved that sound since we were seven. I use to listen to it when I couldn’t fall asleep, and I would think how much I wanted to hold onto you and never let go. Catra, you’re the only person in the universe who has seen me at my best and my worst, and you’ve stayed with me anyways. Catra, I love you because you are my reason for living. Don’t you get that? Do you know who saved me? It was you.”

Catra felt her heart splinter in two, feeling rushing bittersweet joy. “You should hate me, though,” She felt tears slipping down her cheeks, too tired to fight them any longer. “I hated you. Or at least, I wanted to. I wanted to burn the Rebellion to the ground, to punish everyone that took you away from me. I- I ripped a hole through time and space, Adora. I tried to- to do awful things. And you still keep me around… why?”

Adora kissed Catra’s cheek gently. “When you did those things you were hurt, you made mistakes. I made them too. One of my mistakes was waiting so long to say I love you. I love you, Catra, and I am never leaving you again.”

Adora wiped the tears off Catra’s cheeks, and Catra could see she was crying too. 

“You’re an idiot,” Catra gave a small smile, putting her arms around Adora. She was laughing and crying and sure she looked an absolute mess, but it was okay. Everything was okay with Adora.

“Yeah, I am,” Adora sniffled, holding Catra tight. “Are you willing to sleep next to an idiot?"

Catra nodded, not fully letting go, and let Adora half walk, half carry her over to the bed. Adora slid under the covers, holding them up with one arm to let Catra climb in next to her. The air was still, sleepy, and peaceful. The only sounds that could be heard were Catra’s purring and Adora’s breathing. Catra broke the silence one last time.

“And… Adora? I love you, too.”


	2. Flowers and Favors (Shadow Weaver/Light Spinner Speaks)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadow Weaver has never been well liked. Now, she's confined to the Bright Moon pavilion, armed only with tea bags and gardening tools. She's mulling things over, reflecting on her life, and trying to figure out what to do next...

Birds were singing in the trees surrounding the Bright Moon palace, and the flowers were just beginning to bloom. If one didn’t know better, it was a beautiful day with no sign of the war being fought in every part of the planet. The gardens were lovely, with petals of every color imaginable. Roses were starting to bloom, the red and white buds unfurling. 

With a quick snip, they fell into Shadow Weaver’s woven basket, never to grow any more. 

_Is this what I’ve come to?_ She thought, surveying the cut flowers. _Spending my days cutting flowers while others fight a war?_

It wasn’t the worst thing to be stuck doing, she supposed. Better than rotting in a prison cell, at the mercy of Catra. How pathetic those days had been, how powerless she was. 

Well, she had some power now. There was no more Black Garnet, or squadrons of soldiers to command. But Shadow Weaver did have a new kind of power- power over the Queen and leader of the Rebellion. Oh yes, it was a wonderful thing. Glimmer turned to her, Shadow Weaver, for advice and magic lessons. Glimmer trusted her. And that meant Shadow Weaver had influence. Political power was not as good as magical power, but at least it was a start. 

Nodding to herself, Shadow Weaver turned away from the now-flowerless bushes and began the short walk back to her pavilion. The sky was a brilliant blue, the air clean and free. It was never like this when Shadow Weaver lived in the Fright Zone, full of creaking machines and dirty smoke. No, Bright Moon was full of magic and beauty. Sometimes, Shadow Weaver could almost pretend she was back at Mystacor. That there were still people that cared about her and valued her. That she still had magic, and was young. She could pretend she was back at her real home, and any second young Micah would come running in for a lesson. 

When Shadow Weaver taught Glimmer, sometimes it was almost like she was teaching Micah again. The way Glimmer’s forehead creased when concentrating, or the happiness in her eyes when she finally cast a difficult spell. 

Then Glimmer would call her “Shadow Weaver,” and the illusion would be broken. Shadow Weaver longed to be called Light Spinner again, just one last time. 

Shadow Weaver bit back a smile from underneath her mask. The nerve of herself, to wish to be called a name she outgrew. She had given up that right, given that up with a hundred other things she missed every day. 

She had gained one thing, though. Shadow Weaver had gained Adora. With a pang in her chest, Shadow Weaver thought of how much she missed the days when Adora would come running back from training to tell Shadow Weaver all the things she had learned. Adora was the only thing she had left in this stupid, too bright world. Adora was the closest thing Shadow Weaver ever had to family, closer to her heart than even Micah. 

Shadow Weaver closed her eyes, still able to picture Adora’s face when she was a baby. The raw power she had held, it was incredible. Unlike anything Shadow Weaver had ever seen. And hadn’t Shadow Weaver tried to help cultivate that power? To help Adora reach her full potential? Even if it did mean having to give up everything else, to leave the Fright Zone and follow the girl that had almost been like her child… it was worth it. Getting to see Adora grow had been a comfort to Shadow Weaver, in those first lonely years under the command of Hordak. Shadow Weaver had been so naive then, unaware and scared, trying to be a perfect commander. Trying to guide Adora… until Catra had shown up. 

From the day Catra arrived in her stupid cardboard box, she had become the center of Adora’s world. No longer willing to listen to Shadow Weaver or patiently train for her destiny, Adora had run around creating chaos with her new "best friend." Having "fun" with Catra. When one had a destiny as great as Adora’s, there was no time for fun. 

Shadow Weaver shook herself free of old memories as she entered her pavilion, setting the basket down on the rusty table. She used the tap to collect some fresh water, and conjured a small fire to help it boil. It was tea time, after all. 

_Perhaps,_ Shadow Weaver thought, _I’ve wasted my life chasing a dream that never mattered. I’ve hurt so many people, and yet I still considered myself the good guy. Even after Micah, Adora, Hordak, even_ Catra _have all turned their backs on me._

Shadow Weaver wished she could stop her hunger for power, the whispers in her head that had always promised success. Like a fool, Shadow Weaver had always listened. But no more. It was time to accept she had failed. But that didn’t mean it was over.

Shadow Weaver had spent enough years learning magic to know it was rarely too late, there was always a spell or action that could turn the tide. 

Shadow Weaver had one more thing she needed to do with her life, then. She needed to make sure Adora was happy. She owed her that much, at least. 

The bubbles rising from the pot told Shadow Weaver the water was hot enough. She waved her hand, purple smoke billowing like dying fog, and the fire died. She poured the water in a cup, and threw in a ginger tea bag. 

Shadow Weaver knew she was ready to move on, to leave her messy life with its complicated past behind. But she had one more job to do. She had to figure out a way to give Adora a good life.

Adora had always been happiest when Catra was around, that was the only reason Shadow Weaver had ever allowed that stray cat to stay with them. The two of them were always laughing as kids, even after Shadow Weaver would storm into the barracks and tell them to go to sleep already. Adora and Catra had been maddeningly inseparable, up until Adora had left everyone behind.

Groaning, Shadow Weaver realized she knew what she had to do. To be happy, Adora needed Catra. So then, Shadow Weaver had to figure out how to get those two together again. Preferably without either one dying (although would it really be such a loss if Catra died? She was never able to take orders anyways). 

Could Catra even be saved? _That,_ Shadow Weaver supposed, _was debatable._ She had tried to kill Shadow Weaver (but perhaps that had been justified). Catra said she was happy as Hordak’s second in command and that she wanted Adora dead… but that wasn’t true. Shadow Weaver had had the misfortune of living with Catra for years, she knew her too well. She saw how Catra looked at Adora, the way her body relaxed and her ears laid back like she didn't have a care in the world. Catra would never truly want her friend dead. No, was some hope left. 

If Shadow Weaver could get Catra on the rebels' side, that would be a start. Then she and Adora could make amends. But how to do that? Shadow Weaver frowned and picked up her steaming mug of tea, checking that no one was around so she could remove her mask. 

Catra would never listen to Shadow Weaver. Nor should she, Shadow Weaver knew she had never been kind to her. Now, despite years of anger and frustration, Shadow Weaver was rooting for Catra. Rooting for Adora. The Horde needed to be taken down, and the combined strength of those two might just be enough. 

Adora (and Catra) had been the reasons Shadow Weaver was still alive, after all, why Hordak had needed her to train them and why Queen Glimmer hadn’t executed her on the spot. They had, in their own weird way, saved her life.

Shadow Weaver took a sip of her tea, starting to laugh. Perhaps one day, she would repay the favor.


	3. One Night to Cry (Catra and Scorpia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (This is the longest fanfic chapter I've written, it's a little over 3,500 words! I wrote it to try exploring Catra's season 4 breakdown, and what she may or may not have been feeling.)
> 
> Pressure, expectations, failure... Catra had dealt with all of these. She's losing the war, and she knows it. Yet, after months of isolation, she finds her heart still yearns for Adora. She has one night, and only one night, to lower her guard and allow herself vulnerability. But that all comes crashing down when Scorpia bursts in...

The harsh light flickered in the green metallic ceiling of Catra’s quarters. It was fairly empty, with minimum furniture. An ancient bed, a small dresser, a laundry basket. A small display of data with monitors flashing, showing maps and status reports. A couple drawings taped to the stained wall, an undone black bowtie pinned to the closet doors. A small desk sat in the corner, a broken golden badge lay on it with leaking blue powder. 

Once Catra became second-in-command to Hordak, she had been allowed to move out of the cadet quarters and into her own private room just down the hall from Hordak’s sanctum. 

It felt refreshing, in a way. Catra was now away from the prying eyes and whispered rumors the other soldiers loved circulating. Gone were Kyle’s quiet snoring and Lonnie’s incessant midnight chatter. Catra was alone now. Catra was happy now.

Or at least that’s what Catra told herself as she lay curled up in her blankets, feeling the familiar ache of loneliness. She had taken off her scarlet headpiece, it lay forgotten on the floor. As Catra hid her face under the covers, she fought the urge to cry. How stupid this was. She had everything she’d ever wanted. Authority, power, respect. Everything… except Adora. 

This was never in their plan. Ever since Catra could remember, there had been two objectives. Adora and her stay together, and take over the world. Now it looked like Catra was going to be handling the latter alone.

The rush of grief and heartache swelled like a wave, drowning Catra once more. Not a night had gone by where she hadn’t lain awake for hours, missing the sound of Adora’s soft breathing that reassured Catra everything would be okay. When Adora first left the Horde, left Catra, it had taken Catra weeks to learn how to sleep alone without the familiar presence. It had taken her months to accept Adora was a rebel princess now, an enemy, and that she probably hated Catra. 

Catra let out a soft whimper, biting into the blanket in an effort to muffle the noise. Her head felt heavy, as if it were made of stone. What a blessing it would be to sink into her bed and never emerge again. To fall down and stay down, instead of getting back up just to be hurt again.

A knock sounded at the door, and Catra scrambled to sit up. She forced her face to become impassive, her eyes to betray nothing. It was a skill that had taken her years to master, practicing in front of the mirror every morning. To rearrange her features so no one knew her.

Once Catra was sure her guard was up, she took a deep breath. Her voice needed to be steady, controlled, and authoritative. 

“Come in,” Catra’s voice only wavered once as the door slid up with a creaking sound.

“Hello? Wildcat?” A red claw appeared, followed by a smiling Scorpia. “Just thought I’d see if you want to play a game of- hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Catra snapped defensively, tail whipping frantically. “Why would you think something was wrong?”

“You- you just look a little ruffled,” Scorpia said as her face crinkled in concern. 

“Yeah, well, I’m fine. And I don’t want to play a stupid game,” Catra crossed her arms and glared, waiting for Scorpia to leave. Being mean to people was always a sure way to get them to leave Catra alone. The only people it never worked on was Scorpia… and Adora. Both of them always were undeterred by Catra’s cruel remarks or quick temper. Idiots.

Scorpia came over and awkwardly sat down on the edge of Catra’s bed. It was old, the metal bedposts scratched with time (and occasionally Catra’s claws). It was the same bed Catra had slept in when she was little, it still had the faint crayon drawings on it from years ago. Sometimes, just before she drifted off to sleep, Catra would stare at the drawings. She’d remember the childish giggles, the thrill of defacing Horde furniture with stubbly crayons. It was the only time Catra allowed herself to feel nostalgic, to long for the time her life was simpler. 

Catra had insisted the bed be moved to her new quarters, it was the only comforting thing in her room. 

“Do… you wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” Scorpia ventured hesitantly. For once, she seemed serious and devoid of her usual bubbly banter. 

“No,” Catra said, trying to muster up enough strength for it to come across as angry. But she was so very tired, and so desperate for a friend. And would it hurt to be honest for once in her life? She kept her eyes fixed on her blanket, if she met Scorpia’s eyes it would all come pouring out. The hurt, the worry, the pain. 

Scorpia nodded, and stood. For a moment, Catra was terrified Scorpia was going to leave, afraid to be left alone with nothing but her own thoughts and feelings. Instead, Scorpia simply bent down and picked up Catra’s discarded headpiece. She brushed it off and set it carefully on the dresser, arranging it so it looked tough and tidy. Then Scorpia started opening Catra’s drawers, admittedly a little clumsy from her claws. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” Catra tried to stand up from her bed, but Scorpia’s tail gently pushed her back down. Catra eyed it warily, but it didn’t try to sting her. 

“I’m finding you pajamas,” Scorpia said, back turned to Catra. “Your last shift ended hours ago, it’s time to rest. Even a fearsome Horde soldier like yourself must have comfy clothes somewhere.”

“Oh…” Catra said, a little surprised. “Um, two drawers down on your left.”

“Thank you, wildcat!” Scorpia said with a touch of her usual cheerfulness. She pulled out a gray tank top with matching shorts. The red Horde symbol could be seen stamped on it. “Is this it?” She asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Of course, those are the standard ones we’re issued.” Catra replied dismissively, still not meeting Scorpia’s eyes. 

“These aren’t proper pajamas, then! They’re uniform. One sec, I have just what you need.” Scorpia put the grey clothes back in their drawer and scurried off without a backward glance.

“Wait, please-” Catra looked up, startled, but the door had already slid shut. This is what she got for trying to trust someone, letting someone into her room. She was alone again. 

Catra felt a sob building in her throat. The room was too bright, too loud. The stability she had tried to keep when talking with Scorpia had been washed away, and Catra felt drained. She shifted around, uncomfortable on the thin mattress, and pressed her back against the wall behind her. It was cool and grounding, the metal firm and unyielding. Catra let her head hang forward, hidden under a curtain of hair, and let her eyes fill with tears.

She knew she would have to pull herself together once Scorpia came back but that seemed far off, too distant to even think about. 

Catra felt the last of her strength seep away as the first tears began to fall, hugging her knees to her chest. She felt her body shake with sobs and tried to cry as silently as possible. She didn’t know how long it had been, lost in a haze of crying and relief over not fighting to keep it bottled up anymore. 

It seemed too soon that the door slid up again and Scorpia reemerged. Instantly, Catra tried to make it look like she was in control. She started wiping at her face, praying her eyes weren’t swollen and bloodshot.

Scorpia had frozen as soon as she’d seen Catra, a look of slight fear on her face. 

_Was it because I’m actually showing emotion?_ Catra wondered, combing her hair back and squaring her shoulders. Catra was sure she looked pathetic, shivering in her blankets.

“I brought you real pajamas,” Scorpia said and set down a yellow shirt and blue pants near Catra. “They’re my own, but of course I never wear them much. They’re very soft. Might be a bit big on you.”

Hesitantly, Catra picked the clothes up. The pants were a baby blue and felt wonderfully soft. Catra had never felt any fabric so gentle, having grown up in soldier uniforms. The yellow shirt had a smiling crab on the front, with large black text saying “Don’t call me crabby!” 

“I- I can’t borrow your clothes,” Catra tried to push them away.

“Why not? You’re in your own quarters, no one is gonna see you anyways.” Scorpia shrugged before turning away again. 

With a start, Catra realized Scorpia had turned away so she could change. Catra didn’t want to be caught dead in another person’s clothes, but the clothes felt so soft. So comforting, almost like a hug. 

Catra tried to change as quickly as possible, casting off her dirty uniform and climbing into the folds of Scorpia’s lemon-colored shirt. It smelled like the ocean breeze, with hints of leather and tea. Catra tried on the pants, and found they had a tie she could use to shrink the waist to fit her. The clothes were much too large for her, but it was nice to feel enveloped. Almost like wearing her own personal cloud. Catra climbed back into her bed, sitting cross legged and using her blanket to dry the last of her tears.

“Are you all decent, wildcat?” Scorpia asked, keeping her gaze locked on the opposite side of the room.

“Yeah,” Catra said quietly. Even quieter, she added “...thank you.”

Scorpia turned around, and came closer to Catra’s bed. She wrapped the blanket around Catra’s shoulders gently, so it hung off her like a cape. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about whatever is bothering you?” Scorpia asked, sweeping Catra’s clothes off the floor and putting them in the laundry basket sitting next to the dresser. She moved back to the bed, tucking in the sheets and fluffing the pillow. Something fell out of the pillowcase, and hit the floor by Scorpia’s feet. She put the pillow back and picked the object off the floor curiously. 

Catra knew what it was immediately, although she hadn’t seen it in years. She felt the blood drain from her face and made a gasping sound, as if someone had just punched the air out of her lungs. 

In one instant, it was as if someone had destroyed all the defenses around Catra’s heart. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so small, at the mercy of emotions she didn’t understand and certainly didn’t want.

“What is this?” Scorpia murmured, examining it. 

It was a small bracelet, obviously made for a child’s wrist. Plastic beads were threaded onto a clear string, with no thought to color or pattern. Pink, blue, red, red, green, orange, blue. It continued on, as if a grubby hand had simply reached into a jar and used whatever beads had come out. The bracelet looked cheap and chaotic, highly unimpressive.

Catra was looking at it as if it was made of gold and diamonds, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“P-please, please give it back-” Catra begged, feeling her breathing quicken as she snatched it from Scorpia’s grasp.

“Wildcat, I’ve never seen you so rattled. Does this bracelet really mean that much to you?” Scorpia said, looking hurt and worried. Catra never said please, and certainly never begged. In the Horde, begging was undignified and a sign of weakness.

Catra didn’t bother responding, too focused on running her fingers down the beads. She never thought she’d see this bracelet again, assumed it had been lost years ago. And all this time, it had been under her pillow, hidden in the pillowcase? 

Catra saw tears splash down into her open palm. Damnit, she was crying again. But it didn’t matter. She smiled to herself, closing her fingers and bringing the bracelet to her chest. She closed her eyes, feeling the plastic dig into her skin. A piece, a shred, of _her_. Something tangible, not just memories and buried emotions. 

“Thank you, Scorpia,” Catra whispered. “For finding this.

Scorpia looked bewildered. “You’re welcome… but can I get the story behind it?”

Too caught up in the adrenaline of finding the bracelet, Catra didn’t realize her guard was down when she replied: “Yes.”

Scorpia’s head jerked up, clearly taken aback. Catra never said yes, Catra never told stories, and above all Catra never was vulnerable. 

Catra brought her hand so it rested on her knee, palm up, the cheap bracelet sitting like a pearl in an oyster.

“This bracelet…” her voice dipped. “This bracelet was made by someone very special to me. We… we grew up together. The day she made it,” Catra couldn’t help but smile fondly. “We were sitting in the cafeteria during lunch and she decided we needed to add some color to our wardrobe. We found some string and beads, stole them from Shadow Weaver’s room, and skipped afternoon training. We hid in a supply closet, using a partially activated stun gun for light. Shadow Weaver was so mad when she found us! But it didn’t matter, we had such a good time. Hidden away from the Horde for a few hours, just the two of us, laughing and talking about our future. The day she made the bracelet, she gave it to me and promised to be my friend. Promised that I’d never be alone, that she’d always be with me.”

Catra’s smile faded, fingers closing over the bracelet. “That didn’t… that didn’t work out.”

Catra knew that Scorpia would assume the person she was talking about had died in some sort of freak training accident, or been deserter to the Horde. That was close enough to what happened. Scorpia hadn’t grown up with Catra the way the other cadets had. Scorpia wouldn’t know who Catra was talking about, that made it safe to speak freely. 

“I think I know the feeling,” Scorpia said in a low voice, playing with the edge of the blanket.

“Really?” Catra was a little surprised, Scorpia had always seemed so laidback and confident. What could she possibly be missing from her life? 

“Yeah,” Scorpia sighed, sitting down on the floor next to the bed. “Like you miss someone so much, it feels like your chest might cave in at any moment. Like you can never be happy without them, even though they’re happy without you.”

“That’s… exactly it.” Catra looked at Scorpia with newfound amazement. “How could you know that? Who are you missing?”

Scorpia met her gaze, and there was such powerful emotion in her eyes that Catra felt herself leaning back slightly. Scorpia opened her mouth, but closed it before uttering a sound. Her shoulders dropped and she looked sad. “No one important, wildcat.” Scorpia finally said. 

“I just… I just feel so empty. All the time. I can’t stop hearing her voice and missing her.” Catra’s fists clenched. “Why did she leave me? Am I- am I not good enough? All I wanted… all I said and did… did it drive her away? Why does everyone always leave me?”

Catra screwed her eyes shut, anger surging through and wiping away any sadness.

“Maybe… she just wanted someone else. Something else. A life she couldn’t have here.” Scorpia said.

“Well, she can have that stupid life! With her stupid friends and stupid crown!” Catra impulsively threw the bracelet, hearing it hit the wall. 

“Hey,” Scorpia sounded reproachful, gently picking up the bracelet and bringing it back to Catra. “You’re lucky it didn’t break.”

“It’s made for children. Couldn’t break it if I tried,” Catra growled with a touch of her old venom.

Scorpia sat down on the bed next to Catra and placed the bracelet on the blanket in between them.

“You don’t have to do this.” Scorpia fidgeted with her claws a little nervously.

“Do what, exactly?” Catra raised an eyebrow, feeling fiery rage flow through her blood. She was a bomb waiting to go off, she was lava flooding down a volcano. Get too close and you’d be burned.

“Get angry, try to push me away so you don’t have to talk about your feelings.” Scorpia hesitantly reached out, laying a light claw on Catra’s shoulder. “It just makes things worse.”

“Worse?” Catra laughed, cruel smirk twisting her lips. “How could things be worse? I’ve lost the only person in this world I care about. I loved her more than I ever loved the Horde, or being Force Captain. I loved her more than I loved myself. She was sunshine on a rainy day, a flower in a bush of thorns. She was my everything. And y’know where that got me? Here. Sitting on a bed with you, in the middle of a war we are losing. She picked her side, I picked mine. She left. She left me here to try and figure things out by myself! As if I never mattered, as if we never mattered-” Catra felt herself wheeze hysterically, delighting at the knife Fate was driving into her life.

Scorpia slid closer and tugged Catra towards her, so Catra’s head lay on her arm (her shoulder was too prickly to be comfortable). Catra was too exhausted to keep her defenses up, to stay alert and make sure no one knew what she was thinking. She let Scorpia put her arms around her, to shield her from the world if only for a moment. 

“You matter.” Scorpia whispered. “You matter so much, wildcat. And I wish you knew how brilliant you are. But you aren’t invincible. Everyday, you seem more tired. The shadows under your eyes get darker, the anger in your voice is stronger. After you snapped at Kyle the other day, he cried for hours. You keep building walls around yourself. You’re paranoid and scared, and everyone knows it. Please, you have to start taking care of yourself. We’re all worried about you. Even Lonnie and Octavia have asked me if you’re okay. You’ve seemed like a shadow of yourself. And… it’s all because you miss this person?”

Catra nodded faintly, eyes partially closed. “I miss them with every beat of my heart. Every part of my soul.”

Scorpia untangled herself from their embrace momentarily to reach over and turn off the overhead lights. The only faint light now came from the monitors across the room, which glowed soft green and reds.

Catra reached out and scooped up the bracelet slowly. She brought it to her lips and kissed it before putting it back inside her pillowcase. 

“Sometimes, I wish I had never met her.” Catra said as she let Scorpia shift closer to her so the two were sitting side by side in the dark, their backs against the metal wall. 

Scorpia let out a small huff of a laugh. “The person I miss, sometimes… I’m always glad we met. Even if sometimes it’s hard. She helped make me the person I am today.”

Catra, whose exhaustion was giving way to sleepiness, moved the blanket so it covered her and Scorpia. She heard Scorpia’s small exhale of happiness. Gestures of affection from Catra were very rare, reserved only for times of monumental importance. But nothing important was happening now. They were just two soldiers, two friends, sharing secrets in the dark.

With a pang, Catra realized it was almost like what she and Adora used to do. Almost, but not quite. This was too peaceful, too free of tension. Catra wasn’t burdened with wanting to both kiss and kill Scorpia. That made it very different from hanging out with Adora. 

Scorpia yawned, resting her head against Catra’s shoulder. 

“I wish…” Catra began before pausing. She had been mulling over this for awhile, but had not dared to speak it aloud. Now, however, she was stupid with sleep and not as guarded. “I wish we weren’t the bad guys. Y’know? I only want to defeat the Rebellion because of those stupid princesses. Not because I care about the Horde’s ‘purification’ or whatever. The Rebellion… they genuinely care about each other. About themselves. They’re a family, we’re an army. We don’t try and protect, we only destroy.”

“Aren’t we the good guys?” Scorpia asked, voice thick as she tried to pay attention. “I thought that was the whole point, that we’d save Etheria from itself…”

“I don’t think so,” Catra said, feeling the old sour guilt wash over her as she recalled portals and broken friendships. “We hurt too many people.”

“I suppose so,” Scorpia agreed. “I think, one day, I would like to be a good guy.”

Catra sighed, letting her eyes close as she drifted off to sleep. “Me too.” She said, so softly she didn’t even know if she spoke it aloud, or if it was just a fleeting wish her fragile heart had made.

Tomorrow, things would go back to normal. Catra would deny this night ever happened, pretended she had no feelings and was the perfect model of a Horde commander. That Adora meant nothing to her, and that winning this stupid war meant everything to her. Catra would have to become distant again, to not let anyone see that she was broken.

But for now, the moon was still out and the Fright Zone eerily silent. Catra surrendered herself to Scorpia’s warm embrace, her friend already asleep. She had let herself be open with another person, it was the most vulnerable Catra had been since Adora left. It was okay, it was only one night anyways. One night couldn’t hurt, just a few hours to stop pretending she, Catra, knew what she was doing.

Already half asleep, she felt around the bed and slid her hand inside her pillowcase. She pulled the bracelet back out and held it tight against her body, hugging it like it was her lifeline. As Catra’s thoughts blurred to dreams, she was still dimly aware of the ache in her body. She missed Adora.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! I'm still working on The Shadowed Heir but wanted to do some one-shots too (they're more fun and I can post them faster. Also, much better writing than my other stuff). I've never written a scene like this, I hope it's okay? Let me know what/who else you would like to see in the comments! My works keep getting hits but no comments so I can't tell if it's good or not. I hope you have a wonderful day/night, please remember to drink water, eat a meal, get some sleep, etc. I love you! -toomanyteabags <3


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